


Life's Unexpected Turns

by blueartemis07



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9537632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueartemis07/pseuds/blueartemis07
Summary: Severus Snape is given a second chance after the war. What happens when he takes it?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2017 Snape Showcase or Snapecase fest. I had age group 5 or age 50 +.

 

January 9, 2001.

 

Severus Snape was sitting in the kitchen of his old home in Spinner’s End. He’d managed to survive Nagini with the unexpected help of Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom who had prepared him well and aided him after Potter, Granger and the other Weasley did what they needed to do to end the bloody war. The only thing he’d had to put up with was visits from the chits.

 

“Happy Birthday, Headmaster!” Luna called out from the door.

 

“I’m not the bloody headmaster!” he responded as he got up to open it.

 

“Tell that to the castle. It still gives poor Professor McGonagall a hard time with the office.” She smiled up at him as she handed him a small box and a parcel. “I only brought the box. A rather officious owl dropped the parcel on my head as I arrived.”

 

Severus took the box and the parcel.

 

He looked at Luna’s face and opened the box. Inside was a rather small cake, obviously home made.  “Thank you for baking me a cake, Miss Lovegood.”

 

“Luna, Headmaster, and it is my own special recipe, made from dirigible plums. I hope you like it.”

 

“I’m not the headmaster.”

 

“You keep calling me Miss Lovegood, I will keep calling you Headmaster.”

 

Severus snorted at her.

 

Luna smiled, bounced over to him, kissed him on the lips, then went over to the table and sat down, looking at him expectantly.

 

Bemused, Severus sat down and served both of them a slice of cake with tea and proceeded to open his parcel.

 

Luna sat quietly, watching him read the letter that made up most of the parcel as his shaking hand set a small vial of potion down.

 

Severus got up and paced. Then he sat down and read the letter again. Then he got up and paced.

 

The entire time, Luna sat quietly, sipping her tea and watching him intently.

 

Finally, he stopped. “Please leave, Miss Lovegood. I need to think, and your earnest expression is not helping.”

 

She nodded and left quietly.

 

He returned to his letter.

 

_My Dearest Severus,_

_It was never my intention to hurt you. If you are reading this you have survived the war and are free to do so. But knowing you, you do not feel comfortable. As you know, the Headmaster of Hogwarts has access to the Book, Severus, the Book that shows every British magical child eligible for admittance to Hogwarts upon their birth. What you don’t know, and I asked the prior heads to keep from you is that you can ask the book for a genealogy of sorts. That being said, I found that Newt Scamander married Porpentina Goldstein, an American witch. Her family moved to America due to a bit of a scandal. If you look at photos of her and her sister, you can see what I mean. Porpentina is the result of an affair of her mother with your grandfather. Truthfully, neither she nor Newt cared much for that particular bit of genetic heritage. They were more interested in what I had to offer. See, they had a child, Lycodon, who unfortunately perished on one of their nature hunts a few months prior to his tenth birthday. So, they were quite willing to provide the necessary ingredients for an adoption potion. They did insist on using a small bit of Lycodon’s blood that they had saved in an amulet that Porpentina wears around her neck, so that if you take the potion, you will be adopted as their grandchild. This will change your age, but not by too much, considering you are young for a wizard. It will also not change your appearance by much, considering she is essentially your aunt. Those not looking for you in Rolf (yes, they chose your name), will not see you. You will truly be free, Severus. My hope is that you take this in the spirit of generosity that it was meant._

 

_With great affection and remorse,_

 

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

* * *

 

 

January 9, 2004.

 

The man sitting on the balcony of the hotel in Greece was very startled when the lovely blonde plopped down next to him.

 

“Miss Lovegood?”

 

“Happy Birthday, Headmaster!”

 

“Bloody hell, Miss Lovegood! How in Merlin’s name did you find me?” Severus Snape was astounded. He had told no one of the contents of his parcel. He had just informed Minerva that he had come into a little money and was going to travel the continent for a while.

 

When no one had heard from Severus Snape for months, and then a death notice appeared, citing a potions accident in Italy, only a few had mourned.

 

“If you know who I am, then you should know the proper way to address me!” he said.

 

“Yes, but I thought I told you that if you persisted in calling me Miss Lovegood, I was going to continue to call you Headmaster,” she replied.

 

He threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! Fine! Luna! Luna! Luna! Are you happy!”

 

“Oh, yes, I am. Are you?” she asked, as she handed him a little box.

 

Rolf looked in the box, smiling as he found a familiar looking cake. “Dirigible plum?”

 

“Yes. It’s really the only cake I know how to bake properly.”

 

“Good. I quite like it.”

 

“How do you like your freedom? Have you found someone to marry?” Luna asked.

 

Rolf almost choked on the sip of coffee he had taken. “I like my freedom well enough, Luna. I refuse to get married unless I find a woman willing to marry me wearing nothing but spangles and high heels, like a Las Vegas showgirl.”

 

“Really, why?”

 

“I just really like Las Vegas showgirls.”

 

* * *

 

January 9, 2003.  

Rolf Scamander was sitting at a small outside table in a nondescript Parisian cafe, sipping a cup of coffee and eating pain au chocolat while reading a newspaper. He was wearing an old pair of black jeans, Doc Martens, and a plaid shirt.

 

“Bah!” he said, tossing the paper down on the table. “I’m bored. I’m filled with boredom.” Then he stopped and shook his head. “I’m so bored, I’m talking to myself, quoting horrid American telly ads and becoming a cliche.”

 

“Not quite,” said a sweet voice. “You aren’t wearing all black.”

 

Scamander looked up to see Luna Lovegood looking at him expectantly. “I am guessing from the look on your face that you are hoping to get an invitation to sit down.”

 

“Close enough!” Luna smile brightly and sat down, her coat opening up a bit as she undid the tie so she could sit under the heater.

 

Scamander blinked. The young woman was wearing a yellow striped tank top that was thin enough to show her nipples in the chill air, with a pair of very low slung skin tight denim jeans. Then he blinked again. “Miss Lovegood,”

 

“For Merlin’s sake, Rolf, I thought we were over that ages ago. Don’t make me call you Headmaster.”

 

“Luna, then,” he continued. “How in bloody blazes do you manage to move in those, um, trousers?”

 

“Magic?”

 

“Not bloody likely, woman.”

 

“Fine, spandex. It is this lovely Muggle fabric they weave into the cotton. Makes it stretch. You can wear things you wouldn’t think you could fit into otherwise,” she said. Then she got up and twirled around, showing him very tight, very low cut jeans. “See?”

 

Severus made a strangled noise. “Did you come find me just to torture me with what I can’t have, you horrid little witch?”

 

“Not that again, you idiot,” Luna responded. “I told you in that last letter I wrote you that the Nargles have told me that you are the only wizard for me. So, get over yourself, pay your bill and let’s get going. For your birthday this year I have a very good lead on the Nepalese Snow Drop Blossom.”

 

“What if that isn’t good enough?”

 

“We can stop at my hotel room first, and you can peel me out of these jeans.”

* * *

 

January 9, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008. 2009. 2010 and 2011.

 

“You are going to kill me one of these days, woman.”

 

“Too much dirigible plum cake?” asked Luna every year, usually in a state of deshabille.

* * *

 

January 9, 2012

 

“You didn’t say I was going to kill you this year,” said Luna, sitting naked on Rolf’s lap in a field of early California desert wildflowers. “Should I worry?”

 

“Only if you don’t want to make this permanent. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

 

“Well, of course, you silly wizard. It certainly took you long enough to ask.”

 

“I rather thought you would ask me,” he said.

 

“Daddy said I wasn’t allowed,” replied Luna.

 

“You weren’t allowed to ask me to marry you, but you were allowed to learn how to do ancient South American fertility dances?”

 

“You have MET my father, haven’t you?”

 

January 9, 2013. Rolf Scamander watched his wife-to-be walk up the path in her father’s garden toward him, mouth agape at the rather amazing transformation spell he could see shimmering around her. Rita Skeeter was certain to skewer her outfit, which appeared to be made of spangles and rainbows and topped with a tiara of silver unicorn horns.

 

As she approached him, he whispered in her ear, “I do sincerely hope that fashion Transfiguration charm Mr. Weasley cast will hold, my dear.”

 

“I see the antidote he gave you works,” she responded sweetly. “In any case, I explained in detail what would happen to him if it failed during the wedding and reception.”

 

Considering the actual outfit was essentially a few spangles and very high heels, custom made by Bibby Mackie and titled “Nude Showgirl,” Rolf certainly hoped it held. He didn’t want anyone seeing that much of his beloved. Considering she had to be talked into wearing anything for the wedding, it was a good compromise.

 

 


End file.
